Pramod Khilery (India)

Were it not for slippery path
I would have carried on doing mundane things.
Sliding down,
I came across the sorcery of
satin skin and intoxication of
sensuous sighs whose
colluding schemes
devoured me in the cavernous warmth.
Life said, “In whose womb will I see the light
and recite poetry? ”
Before I could rack my brain to
manage a fake answer,
slippery path slid me further down.